4/15/2005

Things are ok here; I am looking forward to the three day weekend. This weekend was a bit hectic.

"No matter how high the throne, there sits but an ass."

-Voltaire

Friday I was so sore from the day before of working out, I could not walk. Complete misery. However there was this cutsie lil blonde next to me just a runnin away on the treadmill, we had both begun at the same time, so I couldn’t let this girl out run me. I am not yet willing to admit defeat to someone younger than I and with such a perfect itty bitty body. (Even though I found out that time is now, since it took me 4 days to recover) I can run for 10 minutes and that is it. The rest of the time I walk really really fast. So I hit the 10 minute mark and it’s starting to burn, sweat has formed on my forehead and starting to trickle down. Blondie just glistens a bit.

Another 5 minutes roll by, I try and concentrate on breathing or the tiny black dot on the wall that is driving me nuts. I wonder if it is a squished bug on the wall, a mark, or chipped away paint. That works for a full minute and a half, but it’s getting really really painful. She reaches down and hits the power to go up faster. I want to kick her, or figure some really sly way of tripping her so that no one would know it was me. I wait a few minutes and decide that I must too go faster. Stupid stupid me. Now I’m trying to make my breathing nice and easy as to not seem labored. The sweat is defiantly pouring down now. She just has a few beads glistening on her forehead. I turn my earphones up, and stare at the black dot, anything to get my mind of my legs, and now my lungs and heart wanting to bust. I think “If I accidentally step on her shoelace, what might happen, or I unplug her treadmill and it suddenly stops mid run…”. Not so godly a thought huh??

Well, she out ran me after 20 minutes, I stayed on for 45 only to see her keep going. I figure she goes home and eats a whole chocolate cake every night, with some hot wings and potato chips and her anorexic self must have to work off hours on binge and purge eating. Well ok..maybe not but the thought made me feel better. Yes, Yes, God loves anorexics to.

King Charles: Quick story 1:We have cleaned out the crap in a room that has been piling up for oh say 6 months to 25 years that they have been in service. Some service parts are so old, on the box, the label was written not by computer but by typewriter. He wants me to call all the vendors and make sure we know that we are sending all these parts back for credit….from 25 years ago. Basically he is asking the impossible.

Quick story 2 : He asked this poor kid (Ben) that works for us to do a favor. We have a PUR water filter on the sink that broke. He had one of our guys take it off and he sent Ben to Costco to take it back for a refund. This is the good part. This pathetic water purifier is 5 years old. New ones cost about 30.00. He was so embarrassed and of course they would not take it back.

Quick story 3: The king had some flowers sent to him in a pretty little vase. After sneezing consistently for 3 days he so loudly and boisterously brought the flowers into me as a gift (so everyone would know that he is really a nice guy even though he is actually re-gifting). “Here Heidi these flowers are for you, you work so hard for the company blah blah blah.” “Why thank you King Charles.” I eyed up the vase and thought “cool looking vase.” He must have caught that because immediately he says “ But I would appreciate the vase back” “Of course King Charles..you pathetic regifter you.”

Now, because he gave me the allergens, I am doomed to be summoned all day by the king for favors. I get his coffee and think if I smoosh up some of these flowers maybe he will have an allergic reaction. At best he may go to the hospital for a few days, death could be a possibility as well. Moral of the story: Never accept flowers from a want to be king. They will always want something in return and you don’t even get to keep the vase. In a matter of three days they are dead anyways.

The Almighty Heidi

Starbucks junkie,vanilla latte' holic. Obsessive pen chewing,compulsive hair color-er, and chap stick addict. My older brother Mark is my superhero, so I called him Captain Markle, and I became his side kick, the "Almighty Heidi". (Thus the name) This is where let it all out...whatever "it" is.